Drip Drop, Ink Splot
by veronica.toon.7
Summary: Henry is at the end of the line now. He's been chased, attacked, captured, and almost sacrificed by a former co-worker, but now he's finally been cornered by the ink character himself. What will happen to our powerless hero as Bendy comes closer and closer to him? Only one way to find out.
1. Drip Drop

**I normally stay away from indie horror video games but after the fandom springing up around BATIM started catching my attention, I thought I at least should check it out. Now even more stuff keeps coming up and, I'll admit, I quite enjoy some of it. I suppose the concept of a substance that we assign value of meaning too now suddenly gaining a will and means to do things on its own without the artist's pen is just an interesting concept to me. Epic Mickey did it first, but I still look into this one more. Anyways, I thought since the fire is still burning strongly for this game, better step in quickly and put in my work. This takes place after chapter 2 and my view of the end of the game. I may make this a multi-chapter story.**

 **I own nothing. Bendy and the Ink Machine belongs to its creators,*pun unintended. I don't own the cover image either.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

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The feel of the wooden wall against his back sent shivers down his spine. He frantically tried to push farther back into it, but he quickly came to realize that his decision had proven to be mistake. Cornered in a dead end with the ink dripping down from the ceiling all around him were only factors that contributed to the fearfulness of the situation he was in.

If he had known where he was going to be just a few hours later from where he initially arrived, he would have never accepted the invitation to come back. Searching for items, axing his way through blocked hallways and doors, finding switches and the like, all to land where he was now.

And the ink.

Oozing out of the walls, floors, and ceiling like black blood. Flooding passageways and adding to the already creepy atmosphere of this place. And then there were the things that spawned from the ink. Occasionally he had come across what had appeared to be just a puddle, just remaining spread out across the floor like thed mess it was.

He had never been so happy to have been holding something to defend himself in his entire life. Black blobby forms surged out from the blackness, spreading out their limbs before flailing them wildly and sliming across the floor towards him. If the axe unfortunately missed hitting them and splattering their inky bodies across the floor, they latched onto his body, soaking through his clothes, onto his skin, and blurring his vision. Occasionally a few would get the drop on him, but luckily he managed to defeat all of them one by one before he was completely overtaken by them. No idea what they would do if they had.

Inside this cavernous building he had found more than his share of surprises, many more of them frightful than delightful. Some things he could make out from the faded memories in the corner of his mind. He had left the studio before much of the things he had seen before him had been brought in, but relics like the recording studio, the posters, the merchandise, the old desks still overflowing with papers and old drawing had given him the tiniest bit of familiarity with this place.

There was just one thing that kept him from becoming relaxed in his place. The ink apparitions, though horrifying and aggressive, he could deal with. The ink machine that lead to every part of the complex and splattered the place with the plentiful black liquid, although it darkened the rooms and made places where creatures could hide before jumping out and attacking him, still had that sense of old nostalgia to it. Ink splotches there, broken pipes leaking there, heck, even a huge puddle on the floor from a clumsy mishap. Though much had changed hole he was absent, he could still remember the times where it hadn't been so frightening to see it everywhere.

No, the one thing that unnerved him more then anything else in this place was him. A creation he had helped design and bring to life. Once a familiar, almost friend-like being that now had come off the screen and was stalking him.

Bendy.

He had come in first seeing the posters upon the walls, advertising the cartoons he had helped make. Then the pieces of merchandise, like the records, film reels, and plush toys. He wasn't too unnerved at first when he saw cartoon character cutouts spread out everywhere. It was only when they started appearing everywhere where they hadn't been before. The ones that peeked out from behind the corner as he walked the hallways were the scariest.

As he completed the first part of his quest, at that time just out of curiosity, he then saw just how terrifying this place had become.

In one room he had come across the remains of a character he had worked on and loved, Boris the Wolf. To his frightful shock, the character now laid before him, an actual, tangible person, yet lacking a heart in his exposed chest. It was scary enough to see the character as an actual being that he could reach out and touch, but to see it not only there, but mutilated made his heart drop in his chest.

He had followed the rest of the directions, collecting the items before turning on the pressure and waking up the ink machine.

.

..

...

He had never expected to see Bendy, standing up alive and out of the ink, before him.

* * *

The ink had flooded the building and, as any man with common sense would have done, he ran. Rooms and different parts of the building just kept appearing, hindering his paths.

New challenges sprouted out, ordering him to go through with them as they made the dangers of failing to do so clear.

Cutouts appeared everywhere, staring at him as he passed by, almost mockingly grinning at him as he regarded them with suspicion.

The ink was everywhere, making it difficult to move past, pass through, or harder for him to standing his ground against. His grip tightened on the axe with each swing.

It now came to his attention how useless it had all been as he now was pressed up against the wall, his axe dissolving into the ink puddle a few feet away. The ground shook with heavy footsteps and the flickering candles and light bulbs around the corner illuminated the figure approaching.

Though blurry as it was, he could clearly make out the slender shadow that was stretched across the wall at the other end of the hallway. The sound of ink dripping loudly on the floor off of it echoed in his head. As it came closer to the end, he could make out the details such as the long, gangly limbs, the large feet, and, lastly, the two pointy, curved horns upon the ink creature's head.

The black, inky being suddenly lurched out from behind the corner, melting out from the shadows like the darkness it was made of. There, just feet away, was the character he had once fondly looked upon. Though it shaped like it was supposed to be on the paper, it now looking partially melted, possibly due to the tampering for its' creation. Tendrils of the dark liquid it was formed from fell from every part of its' body, almost as if it was still learning to solidify itself.

Its head found around the empty space, splattering ink as it thrust itself through the air, finally coming to a stop as the melted face came into his sight. The Glasgow grin permanently etched on Bendy's face seemed to grow wider as his clunky steps now moved slowly towards him. Drops of sweat gathered on his form as he was left completely defenseless against his stalker.

His breath hitched as his lungs seemed to tighten in his chest. His legs drew closer to his chest as a painful torrent of memories suddenly flowed through his mind of all he had experienced, followed shortly by the growing numbness in him limbs as the ink came closer to him.

And all at once... everything became black.

* * *

 **There's a sequel chapter to this, though you guys let me know what you think is going to happen next in the reviews. Maybe it will go out as you'd expect, or maybe I just might be able to surprise you, who knows until I post it. Anyways, see you next time. -V.t.7**


	2. Ink Splot

**Part 2 coming through. Now we'll see just what happened to our dear Henry. Also, stay tuned for the poll at the bottom.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

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A throbbing, aching pain shot through his brain as he started to regain consciousness. Groans escaped his throat as he tried to open his eyes, only to hiss in pain and bring his hands up to his face once a piercing, stinging light hit his pupils. Everything around him seem to swirl as he dizzily pulled himself up into a sitting position. Suddenly losing balance, however, his front fell forward, his face landing on the hard wooden surface with a loud thump.

Wincing at the extra surge of unpleasant stinging on his forehead, he gritted his teeth and patiently waited until most of the pain and dizziness cleared before attempting to gain awareness of his surroundings.

 _Clack!_

His form suddenly went pin-straight. Ignoring the stinging flash from the sudden movement, his head quickly looked across the room, looking for the source of the loud noise.

It was then he realized that he was right back where he had started, just he was now sitting at his old desk. A few papers with messed-up or imperfect sketches littered the floor, spilling out from the wastepaper basket. He flinched when his eyes caught on the drawings of the smiling, inky demon.

His line of sight finally fell to the floor where he discovered the object responsible for the sound, where he immediately picked it up. A fancy, black pen was soon being twirled in his fingers, being examined from every which way. A silver sheen caught his attention to the side and he squinted to read the fancy, cursive engraving.

 _Dreams Come True._

A pressure quickly built up in his throat and he swallowed it loudly. Turning back to his desk, he took in the disarrayed mess once more. From the dusty bottle of ink to the scattered papers, it was no different from when he had left it all those years ago.

All except for that one letter wedged between his desk and the wall.

Standing up and grasping the side of the desk in one hand and the letter in another, he slowly pulled it out and stared at it. Crisp vanilla paper with his name scrawled out in fancy, cursive ink.

Looking into his desk drawer, he quickly found his old letter-opener and neatly split the top of the envelope open before reaching inside and pulling out the folded paper, growing yellow with age around the corners.

He paused then, realizing the difference in age between the envelope and the contents inside. The paper itself felt old and worn, like a manuscript from ancient times, while opposed to it the envelope was new and clean, with no signs of aging yet. He looked back to the front of the envelope, looking at his name once more.

 _H-E-N-R-Y._

Feeling suddenly numb, he say back down in his chair, eyes never leaving the letter. His limbs felt like lead and his hand seemed to be weighed down, even as he lifted it up to open the letter. Feeling came back to his body as he flinched when another folded paper slipped out of the letter. Picking it up first, he slowly undid the tiny sliver of clear tape keeping it shut before unfolding it, holding his breath all the way.

When he looked what was on it, he released it is shock. On the paper was a simple drawing of Bendy. The dancing demon was smiling, but it seemed less frightening or forced then the cutouts or the physical form of him. He shuddered at the thought. Instead, the grin was more natural, cheerful as it was supposed to be. What's more, he was in the picture. Not in a cartoon form, but drawn realistically. In the picture he was holding up Bendy in a hug, with the character hugging him around his neck tightly in return. It was a happy drawing, no signs of malice or morbid darkness anywhere in sight.

Until he looked at the corner where the signature was at. He felt his heart sink to his stomach and cold caterpillars fun down his spine. An ink splatter with a name scratched into it sent his heart beating wildly and fear shooting through his mind.

 _Bendy._

Slowly putting it down, he took hold of the letter and opened it up, eyes flying down the page. Drops and splats of ink marred the edges of the letter.

 _Hey Henry,_

 _No long time no see? It's been a while since we last saw each other. I still remember like it was yesterday, you coming into the studio each day, working on my cartoon, taking orders from Joey, putting in your all to make sure it got done. And then the others, Susie making Alice sing, Wally complaining about the ink, Norman and Sammy directing the music, everyone else. Good times._

 _But enough about them. I bet you're wondering why you're here, why Joey asked you to come. Well truth be known, that was me actually. I asked you to come. As for Joey... Joey's not himself. No one is actually. It's so dark in here now. I can't forget any day when the studio was full of light and wonder. Let's just say a lot of things have changed since you left._

 _The reason why I asked you to come here is because I wanted you to be here. I'm... I'm so alone around here. No one wants to talk or spend time with me, they just want to worship me like I'm some god. I've seen some pretty scary stuff around here, stuff I don't want to talk about, though I can already guess you kinda know if you've already seen Boris and Alice._

 _Or what's become of them._

 _Henry, I'm asking, no, begging you to help me. I'm really scared and when I get scared... things happened. I'm not entirely in control anymore. I guess, like the others, I'm not exactly myself either. I just really want to get out of this place and away from what everything's become. I know things are just going to get worse the longer I stay and I don't know much longer I can take._

 _Please Henry... please..._

"H-help... me... _"_

Henry gasped sharply, nearly dropping the letter in the process. The words near the end of it weren't spoken in his mind, but verbally, and not from his lips.

"H-h-Henry..."

He stood up immediately from his chair and turned around. To his horror a small stream of ink trailed across the floor, followed by another beside it. A thud alerted him to behind the wall, followed by another. It sounded for a moment like someone was stomping towards him, until, to his further dismay, an inky, black hand appeared behind the corner, slapping as it pulled its owner forward.

Steeling his nerves, he quickly darted out of his office and towards the other side of the hall, before turning around sharply and facing the creature. He axe-less, weaponless, and the only way behind him, though it split up, would eventually lead to a dead end, but he would face it. Whether it a Searcher, Sammy, or Bendy, he would stand till the very end.

In the flickering light, he could barely make out the figure's features. It had horns, so he eliminated the Searchers from the list. Now only left with two options, he squinted in the dark to make out it between the two.

Only the figure's head, torso, and one of its arms could be made out, the rest dissolved into the inky puddle surrounding it. His first thought was it couldn't be Sammy, but he thought back to when he had been tied and put out to be sacrificed earlier by the insane man, only to be apparently attacked by the demented cartoon character. For all he knew, this was all that remained on his former supervisor.

Whoever the figure was, it kept its head down and out of his sight as it weakly stretched out its arm towards him. He took a step back to prevent it from grabbing his leg. His foot hit something and sent it rolling. His head flipped over his shoulder and back, not wanting to look away from the scene before him. Already recognizing what the object was, he swiftly ducked down and grasped the cylinder, flinching at the cold steel. He stood up again, throwing the flashlight forward and clicking on the light, just as the figure spoke.

"H-h-Henry..."

"Bendy?"

The head lolled up slowly, Ink flowed down the sides of it, obscuring the eyes and part of the exaggerated cartoon grin. Only this time, the ink had come down of far it ran down the toothy smile, flowing over the crescent edges and making it seem like the character was frowning.

 _"A first for Bendy,"_ Henry thought to himself. In all the years he had worked drawing Bendy, he had never once seen a sketch or drawing of him frowning. He had made one of him with a shocked expression, with his mouth in an 'o' shape, but when Sammy saw him drawing it he ordered that it be discarded immediately. _"It was all smiles from then on."_

"H-Henry... pl-pl-please... hel...p... me.."

The character suddenly gasped, though the teeth never moved, and the arms suddenly began flailing wildly. He took a step back, not wanting to be caught in it, until he realized the figure wasn't reaching for him, but instead desperately trying to grab onto something as the rest of it started to be pulled back into the puddle.

"H-h-hel-"

The voice was abruptly cut off as the torso disappeared, now followed in my the head. The one arm still swung about, still trying to hold on to whatever it could.

Meanwhile, standing just a few feet away, Henry was at a crossroad. One hand if he let the figure disappear, he could make his way over it and head towards the door. Though chances are there could still be Searchers or flooded areas or something worse blocking the exit that he would have to go through to get out, all without his axe. Plus the door could still be locked.

However, his mind still clung on to the bits of the letter he read and the image of the ink drawing. If he was to assume that this Bendy was really the same one who had written the letter and did the painting, the one who was frightened of what had become of him and his creators, the one who really wanted his help, should he save him?

The white of the grin was almost completely drowned in the ink.

 _Should he take his chance and help him?_

The last of it went under, now heading up to the horns.

 _Or should he let him dissolve and make a break for the exit?_

Only the tip of the horns could be seen.

His eyes fell upon the arm, just now beginning to still as the body vanished into the puddle. It was then he made his choice.

* * *

 **And that choice is up to you, dear readers. Should I make an ending where Henry saves Bendy or leaves him to dissolve and run for the exit unprotected? Or should I just make both ending and placed them in separate chapters? It's all up to you, so leave your answer in the comments. I look forward to what you put. Till then I'll see you next time. -V.t.7**


	3. New Beginnings

**Part 3 coming right at you. Thank you all so much for voting. Now that the results are in, let's watch the fate of our dear protagonists and cartoon character unfold. Also, let me know in the comments section if you would like me to do chapter with the alternate ending of what you voted for.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

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"Bendy, hold on!"

Henry's hand shot forward, just narrowly grasping onto the rapidly stilling hand before it melted into the puddle. His fingers wrapped onto it firmly, becoming stained with gooey ink in the process.

For a moment, nothing happened. The puddle of ink had stopped expanding and all that was left in contact of the cartoon character remained still and lifeless in his grasp. A few drops of cold sweat dripped down Henry's forehead. Had he been too late? Did he not move in fast enough? Was Bendy truly... gone?

A startled yelp escaped his throat as the still hand suddenly reanimated again and the fingers tightly wrapped around his. Realizing that it was still not to late, Henry immediately began pulling back, determined to help get him out. It honestly felt to him like he was getting someone out of a pool of quicksand since it was rather difficult to get anything out and it seemed like the more he pulled, there was a tighter, firmer grip holding him back.

Then all of a sudden, there was nothing. The tugging of the ink trying to yank Bendy back in dissipated instantly. However, because he had placed all his weight into pulling him out, the abrupt changed in wrenching him out caused him to lose all balance. With a startled yelp, from both him and another person, he tumbled backwards and fell onto his back.

His muscles ached at the sensation of falling on the floor painfully. As he started to regain control of his limbs, they quickly started to tense up as the feeling of wetness started to seep through his shirt and onto his chest. He flinched when he felt the pressure on his front shift and something clench onto his shirt tightly.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of the dizziness, he slowly cracked open an eyes. The light bulb in the ceiling that, fortunately wasn't flickering, was unfortunately sticking his eye painfully. He blinked rapidly to adjust to the brightness before doing the same to the other and then looking to what was weighing him down.

Cold caterpillars started crawling down his spine and sweat began dripping down his face at the sight of two curved horns attached to an inky black head laying limply on his shirt. He froze as he felt it begin to stir and he held his breath in anticipation of what was to come. Slowly the head arose to meet his.

A pair of cartoonish eyes, just merely black ovals with a slice taken out of them, on a whitish face blinked up at him. Their eyes were filled with confusion and innocence.

"H-Henry," came a small voice, appearing to come from behind the overly-wide and toothy grin. Despite the exaggerated smile, the eyes betrayed all the emotions they must've felt.

"Bendy?"

"Henry!"

He flinched again on habit as the ink cartoon suddenly surged forward, long, gloved arms wrapping around him in a firm embrace around his neck. It took a few seconds for Henry's brain to process the action as less of a malignant gesture and more of one of seeking comfort. Slowly, his own arms rose up and wrapped around the character's thin, long back, holding it tightly and pressing against him reassuringly.

After a few moments of the reunion, Henry slowly sat up and scooted until his back was pressed against the wall. Sensing the difference in positions, slowly the ink being pulled away and looked up at him. There were still some parts of him that seemed to drip, but he was much more solid now then he was previously.

 _"How could a being of pure ink exist outside of a film reel?"_ he thought to himself. _"I mean I saw for myself all those pentagrams and offerings and I heard Sammy keep referring Bendy as his savior, right before he... Oh Bendy, what happened since I was gone?"_

Henry was then briefly taken out of his thoughts at the sound of muffled sobs. He looked down and say Bebndy's head burried against his neck while his hands clenched on his stained shirt tightly.

"I'm- I'm so scared Henry. I'm just so afraid of what's happened, what has been happening, and what's probably going to happen to me. I-I just want it all to end."

He paused for a moment, fully processing the words. His hand then came up behind Bendy and gently pressed onto his back, pushing him closer.

"It's alright Bendy. It's going to be okay. What matters now is that you're safe and that all that matters right now."

The cartoon stop crying and looked up with tear-dripping eyes, or at least what he could make out with the extra beads of white in his pupils and at the corner of each one. Sniffing, he brushed away the certain aspects from his face and tried to make his expression look sincere.

"T-thank you. S-sorry for getting ink all over your shirt." His eyes seemed to grow a bit brighter at Henry's chuckling.

"It's fine. I kinda expected to get messy coming back here. Besides, it was already ruined before you showed up." It was now Bendy's turn to giggle as he slid off Henry to let the animator up.

"Yeah. S-so... what do we do now?" he asked, curious to what they would be doing from then on out. Henry looked back down, staring at Bendy's shiny black eyes peering up at him. For a brief moment his mind went blank.

"Um, well, um. I suppose we should find our way out of this place. Then... well, we'll figure it out from there." This answer seemed to placate the ink cartoon and he wobbly stood up.

"Well then, we should probably start making our way out of here, eh," he replied. He then offered out his own gloved hand for Henry's to grasp. Hesitantly, Henry clamped onto it, trying not to look shocked at the feeling of sturdy solidness opposed to an inky goop.

Bendy's eyes seemed to sparkle as he helped his old friend up. He then began to pull him forward through the hallways which both of them had remembered familiarly in years past.

"Hey Henry?"

"Mm, what is it Bendy?" Henry replied, looking down at him. Bendy slowed down and rubbed his arm with his free hand awkwardly.

"D-do you think you could work on me some more when we get to wherever we're going? I mean... like could you give me some more facial expressions," he asked, before gesturing to his overly widened grin. "I've been smiling for so long that I've grown tired of it. It honestly doesn't feel authentic anymore and I much rather have a smaller smile, a frown, or even a bored expression, like the one you were making for me all those years ago. You know, before Sammy told you to throw it away."

Henry paused at the request, before a smile of his own crossed his face and he nodded. "Sure, I could probably sketch you some new faces. Nobody should be smiling for so long, especially when they haven't felt much like it."

The cartoon character seemed to relax as they let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you Henry. You don't know how much that really means to me."

A shudder ran across his spine as Henry's thumb gently rubbed over his glove as a comforting gesture.

"You're welcome Bendy."

And with that said, the exit came into view at the end of the long corridor and together, the artist and the cartoon, made their way towards it.

* * *

 **Not exactly the most epic of endings, but at the same time I don't think it needs to be. I like to imagine scene like how I picture Walt Disney holding Mickey's hand as they walk towards the light, it's just a tender scene between both creation and creator.**

 **Anyways** **, thank you all for voting for Bendy's rescue, though now I pose to you another question. I've been pondering writing another chapter where Henry doesn't him. I honestly came to this ending picturing it in two ways, like if it really was in the game it would be a legitimate choice to make in the end; either save or leave Bendy, each decision having different consequences. So let me know if you'd like another chapter with the alternate ending. Thanks again for voting and reading my story. -V.t.7**


	4. Into the Abyss

**Part 4. So I got enough requests for the alternate ending to this story where Henry does not save Bendy. Will our 'hero' be able to reach the exit in time or will he never escape this inky deathtrap?**

 **Sigh... okay I just want to first get out that I had a bunch of conflicting emotions on how this chapter would go. It actually kept me awake at night as I tried to think of how to do this chapter. As a result, my final decision is that I won't be making a full-length chapter about it. I'm a person who loves to get into the lore of something, so when I started getting more invested in BATIM, I realized just how dark and disturbing it could be. An ink devil summoned by satanic rituals that is probably rampaging about and attacking its creators, I just don't feel good about myself doing it.**

 **So here's the deal. If you already don't know, then this story was meant to be representations of what could happen at the game's ending, like if you played the game a certain way or chose a certain choice then a different ending would appear. I've decided that there should be one ending if you chose to save Bendy and two bad endings, each caused by decisions and choice patterns in the game. I won't go into too much detail about them, but I will list them out. Just a brief summary.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 _"...if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."-Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

If you choose to leave Bendy behind and escape...

* * *

The first ending is that Henry keeps running through the hallways, that are suddenly becoming flooded with ink again after a bloodcurdling shriek echos through the hallways. The lights flicker more then ever, until it's almost like running through pitch black darkness.

Worst still is that Searchers and the demented, distorted figures of the other cartoon characters you've encountered thus far are rising up from the ink to grab at you and prevent you from leaving. Since you are without your axe and any form of light, you are running blindly down the halls, hoping and praying that you're going down the right path to the exit and you'll make it there before you're completely consumed by the ink.

If you run fast enough, you'll finally see the door that leads out into the outside world is blurring from all the creatures attacking you, yet you surge towards the exit, just as the the lights above give off. The ceiling and floor groan and begin to collapsed, weakened from all the ink eating and tearing at the structures. You slam against the doorway, hands frantically trying to grab hold onto the doorknob. You might it, a spark of relief spreading out within you...

...it dies soon after you realize you can't open it. Pounding as hard as you can, you try and break it down, with no avail. A cry escapes your dry throat as you are suddenly pulled away from the door and across the floor. Your face turns up and you can here the sound of ink flowing down the hall and your heartbeat as the monstrous, fully constructed form of Bendy the Dancing Devil stares maliciously down at you.

He lunges viciously and the screen turns to black.

...

You wake up dazed to the sound of a film reel rolling. You try to get up and move, but find yourself paralyzed. You gasp once your eyes open and the camera zooms out, revealing you, a character upon the silver screen, forever stuck in the same loop. The camera keeps zooming out, revealing the form of Bendy in his less threatening, cartoon form, now on the physical plane and watching you, the cartoon character, upon the wall.

Fade to black.

* * *

The second ending is where you are able to escape to the outside world.

Looking behind you, you see all your enemies approaching, eagerly awaiting your demise into the inky depths from which they came from.

All of a sudden, the hallway gives a mighty groan and the ceiling collapses, sending planks of wood tumbling down and hindering the ink creatures in your path. A crevice starts to break apart in the floor as you desperately keep trying to break open the door. With an earsplitting crack, the knob pops open and a crack appears in the door. A horrendous roar and shriek call out behind you, but you pay it no heed as you push through the whole, just as the studio behind you finally breaks down.

You pass out onto the ground.

...

You wake up some time after. At first you are frightened, seeing a world of darkness around you, but it quickly fades as you realize there is the light of the stars, moon, and street lamps around you. Your breathing starts to quiet down and you start to get up, first cherishing the feeling of grass underneath your hands.

Turning back, you gaze in awe and horror at the remains of Sillyvision Studios. All has collapsed into a dusty pile of wood, paint, and bricks. All that is slightly intact is the logo sign, yet even it is chipped and worn from years of neglect. You release a sigh, but either of relief or of sadness it is unclear.

Turning away from the place once filled with happiness and joy, now a grave of obsession and horror, you turn towards your car, parked right as you left it. As you pull out your keys and enter your car, you are filled with conflicting thoughts. Thoughts of what happened back there and what could've caused it. Memories replay in your head as you try and figure out the mystery of the ink machine and the people along with it.

As you start to drive off, you come to the conclusion that some things in the past should remain in the past, as the golden memories they once her, and should not be re-imagined and forced into becoming new things completely unrecognizable from what they were intended to be.

...

Inside the wreckage of the studio, a faint sliver of moonlight trickles into the mess of wood and ink, revealing the smile of a broken Bendy cutout.

Fade to black.

* * *

 **It ain't much, but I hope you won't be too disappointed with it. I just really felt that I shouldn't do the full graphic version of it, I just really didn't feel okay with it.**

 **Anyways, thank you so much for checking out an dreading my story. Please leave a review and feel free to check out some of m other stories. -V.t.7**


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